


Quiver

by Chyme



Category: Chihayafuru
Genre: F/F, Family Issues, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chyme/pseuds/Chyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without karuta, and away from the eyes of those who proclaim to love her, Shinobu's hands have a habit of giving way to the nerves inside. It takes years for someone else to reach out and lay them still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiver

Shinobu touched the mirror with her fingertips, leaving only smudges behind. Through the blur, a pale, dull mist that showed razor-thin gaps, curves where the whorls on her skin had been reversed, and she saw her eyes, more grey than blue in the light of the room. Her grandmother’s house was un-fancy and cold, at least in the way it allowed the lighting to bleed through the walls and doors, and some of that taste was reflected in the way the kimono hung on her, red and heavy.

It was the first time she had ever worn one. Her mother had chosen it for her, dismissing her longing gaze on a sheet of silk printed over with snowflakes, with both a puckered frown and a short, snappish ‘no.’ Her voice was the perfect battering ram, designed to remind Shinobu that while she and the cards played the parts of both puppeteer and master to each other, her mother was the guard behind the cameras, the one waiting with a blistering thermos and words that she thought were reflections of reality, casual cruelties that Shinobu suffered and decided not to breathe retorts to.

‘You mustn’t mess this up, Shinobu,’ she told her, her voice ringing out so much harder than any school teacher’s, even the one who had reprimanded Shinobu for day-dreaming too often. ‘Your grandmother is strict; if you don’t win, she’ll probably take it out on both of us.’

She had shuddered as though her mother was a cruel beast, lurking in the real world rather than the dusty oral traditions of folklore.

Shinobu had blinked. ‘She won’t kick us out; Grandmother does not go back on her word. As long as I keep playing, we can stay. Besides,’ she had added, her voice a firm whisper as her fingers clenched the heavy fabric circulating her wrists, ‘I’m going to win.’

Her mother’s face had twisted with disgust. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Your father was good at them too.’

Shinobu hadn’t known what to say to that. So she had kept quiet, her fingers glossing over the surfaces of her beloved cards as she counted down the seconds to her first match for the title of Queen. And she had kept her promise, the one she had never really made; it was her mother’s choice, after all, if she wanted to see Shinobu’s truth-telling as wishful thinking.

After her victory, they interviewed her, the lights blustering as cameras flashed and microphones were stuck in her face. And yet all that had dimmed by far, by the way she felt thrust into the spotlight by her mother’s warning glare. For one frightful second, the words had stuck in her throat. How could she dredge them up into the light, recounting the way she had felt her victory coming, the victory the cards had guided her to, whispered to her as they awaited her loving touch, the one that helped her reclaim them to her side?

So in the end, she didn’t. She lied, the way her grandmother had taught her. And later, at home, away from the too-bright lights, she raised her hands to a mirror and touched it, despite the nerves that still shook inside.

 

\--------------------------

 

‘You have lovely hands,’ Chihaya said, years later, ‘they move so fast and yet, they’re so still when they land on the cards. I’ll never be able to pull off the same trick.’

‘You’ve done it before,’ Shinobu pointed out.

She felt the need to tug back, to free her wrist from Chihaya’s careful touch but refrained. For one thing, Chihaya was being gentle, something that didn’t come easily to her. She was tracing the whorls on Shinobu’s fingertips with gentle, dabbing strokes, a mere feather-dusting touch in comparison to the practise strikes she thrust out across the mat at home.

‘My skin’s just like everybody else’s. It’s the muscles underneath that are different,’ Shinobu told her, a little uncomfortable as Chihaya broadened her strokes, dipping her fingers down to force a valley into the curved joints that led down into Shinobu’s palm.

‘I know, I know...but it’s the feelings that matter too, right?’ Chihaya gifted her with a smile, warm and bright and earnestly gentle in the same way she did when Arata praised her or Taichi won a game he was struggling with. ‘They’re the things that make you move the way you do, right? Besides, your skin is still soft. And there’s nothing, anywhere, that says I can’t enjoy that.’

‘It’s not against the rules of karuta, no,’ Shinobu said shortly, ‘but the cards don’t care about the smoothness of my skin. They care about how I reach for them, how I rescue them, and whether my touch is as gentle as it could be.’

She finally yanked her hand back, squashing the disappointment both in herself and Chihaya as the other girl’s face fell.

‘But that’s what makes you so special, right? You would never hurt the cards.’

Chihaya’s voice was gentle but her gaze spoke of hunger, an ache that rang out and demanded victory as she stared down at Shinobu’s hands, her own twitching in anticipation of the practise strikes she suddenly felt a longing to indulge in. It didn’t scare Shinobu exactly; she was used to hunger herself. She saw it in the mirror everyday when she wondered about her next opponent and whether they would make the next game too easy for her.

But Chihaya’s hunger was different; it was even different from the starvation her mother and grandmother suffered from, which was mostly a longing for security and worth and power. Because Chihaya’s hunger was focused on her in a way nobody else’s had ever been. Chihaya didn’t just want her gift, her speed or even her accuracy. She wanted her love as well. And that was...a strange thing for Shinobu to deal with. The only ones who had ever cared to that extent, were the cards.

‘Do you want to play a game with me?’ she asked, a flicker of joy nestling inside her at the way Chihaya’s face lit up in response.

‘I would never say no, Shinobu-chan, you know that!’

Yes, Shinobu reflected, she did. And it was that, perhaps, that made Chihaya scarier than both her mother and grandmother combined; she would always say ‘yes.’

‘If I win, what do I get? The Queen title...that’s far behind us, now.’

Shinobu curled her hands briefly to disguise the nerves that shook inside. Karuta-playing would iron them out temporarily, but Chihaya’s question brought out a whole different issue.

‘Oh, what’s this?’ she asked playfully, some of that old Kyoto spice creeping into her smile. ‘You’ve grown beyond the thrill of the game? That’s not like you.’

Chihaya scowled. ‘No! I’ll always love karuta you know that, it just...feels wrong to be playing against you without anything at stake, even if it’s just my pride.’

‘...I’ll let you touch my hands again...’

‘...you could buy me some of those ultra-rare Daddy Bear chocolates..’

They looked at each other and smirked.

‘A kiss?’

‘Hmm. You only have the right to demand that if you manage to win.’

And with not-so-privately disguised smiles, they both began to set out their cards. This time however, Shinobu could not feel so much as a tremor within her fingers. No, this time the quaking was firmly reserved for her heart.

 

\--------------------------

 

‘It will be a scandal! The people who know will want to erase us from their contact-list, they’ll smirk at us behind our backs!’

Her mother raged, the tea-cup nearly cracking in her hands. Shinobu found herself anxiously gazing at her grandmother but the old woman stared back impassively. Her teacup remained cradled in its saucer, the steam rising up to brush against her carefully pulled back bangs.

Shinobu shook her head and copied her, gently placing her teacup back within the carved-out rim of her saucer. Her grandmother had taught her well; the china hardly made a clink as she let go of the handle.

‘I can’t live here anymore,’ she said calmly. Or rather, she thought, _I won’t_. ‘You’ve both been kind and supportive to me as I’ve been growing up.’ But only, perhaps, when it has suited _you_. ‘But even so, it’s time I move on.’

Her mother’s lip curled. ‘With a girl?’

‘With a girl,’ Shinobu confirmed. ‘Who, if you remember, once became a queen, just like I did.’

‘You’re going to live with a woman who stole your title?’ This time her grandmother spoke, casting an appraising eye over her as she did so.

‘Chihaya didn’t steal anything,’ Shinobu snapped. ‘She earned it. Which you would know, if you had been watching the match that day.’ As soon as she had finished speaking, she recoiled, half-horrified that she had taken up such a tone to a woman she would never quite be able to shake off the bindings of love for.

But there was a gleam on her grandmother’s eye. One Shinobu had seen her wear when she had outplayed a dissenting voice, or that time she had heard that Shinobu had made A-rank, oh so many years ago now. It was a gleam, a rather self-congratulatory one, that to Shinobu, seemed to say, ‘well-played.’ And even if it wasn’t, Shinobu chose to interpret it that way.

Her grandmother inclined her head. But she didn’t speak. Instead her hand reached, elegant still, despite the gnarled skin, and her fingers closed round the handle of her teacup. She raised it to her lips, closing her eyes as she quietly indulged in a small sip. It warmed Shinobu to see it, to see her grandmother relax in her presence. It was a sign of trust, one she had never dared believe she would ever receive.

‘Mother!’ Shinobu’s mother sounded appalled. She slammed the teacup down with a hard thud, a slight chink appearing in the saucer.

Her grandmother frowned. ‘You shouldn’t treat things that aren’t yours with such flagrant disrespect. You’re still living in my house, if you care to recall.’

‘Ah, yes...I’m sorry.’ Shinobu’s mother grasped a napkin and hastily wiped up the spilled-over mess. ‘But still! We can’t!’

‘I’m past the legal age where you can control me,’ Shinobu reminded her, as gently as she could. ‘I’m leaving, mother. Goodbye and thank you, both of you, for all your hard work.’

She gave the table a low bow before she stood up and entered the corridor, sliding the door shut behind her with a soft, but declarative, thud. It had not escaped her notice that her mother’s hands were shaking terribly, even when pressed flat against the table, and for that, she supposed, she felt a little sorry. She knew well how it felt when the nerves decided to jangle inside your skin.

 

\--------------------------

 

Chihiya was waiting outside the door, an anxious frown on her face that gave way to a pleased smile as soon as she saw Shinobu step outside.

‘Your grandmother’s house is beautiful but it seems all large and gloomy. I was afraid it would swallow you up inside,’ she explained, as she handed over Shinobu’s suitcase.

Shinobu smiled as her fingers touched Chihaya’s briefly, feeling the slide of her calluses against her own. Then her eyes moved down further and she felt her cheeks nearly tear in half at the sight of a Snowmaru head Chihaya had doodled on the side of her luggage in bold, wiggly lines. ‘Is that in permanent marker?’

Chihaya blushed. ‘I’m sure it’ll wash out if you don’t like it!’

‘I love it,’ Shinobu reassured her, her free hand reaching out to pet the back of Chihaya’s rather forlorn and empty-looking one. She turned back to glance at the yawning doorway of her grandmother’s house, away from the smile that was no doubt making a reappearance on Chihaya’s face.

‘You think it swallowed me?’ she asked, the question addressed more to herself than to Chihaya. ‘Hmm. I suppose, for a number of years, it really did.’

She took the quietness behind her for sorrow, and perhaps pity, and so spun round on her heel, her own smile wide and sunny and maybe, just a little fake. ‘Come on, if we hurry, they might not be out of ice-cream by the time we get to the station.’

Chihaya peered at her suspiciously. ‘Aren’t they re-launching that special edition Snowmaru snow-cone there?’

Shinobu laughed, and with a slight bounce in her step, she thrust herself forward. It was almost as if she were flying. And even though, by rights, there should have been a slight quiver inside her, whether it was one built of nerves or apprehension, she could feel not a trace. Instead, the sun rose up as Chihaya’s skin brushed against her own and she felt a love spill into her, a love that was not focused solely on the karuta cards she could feel digging into her hips, their bulk safely concealed within her pocket.

It’s not just you and me anymore, she thought towards them fondly. It hasn’t been for a while.

And with another bounce in her step, she flung herself out into the street. And almost dropped her suitcase.

‘Ah! Be careful, Shinobu-chan!’

She threw back her head and laughed. And, ah, there they were; the nerves. They vibrated within her laughter, reverberating within her vocal cords as they plucked against their strings, echoing into both the tendons and the pipe of her throat with a dizzyingly melody of their own.

‘Shinobu-chan?’

Shinobu looked at her worried face. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, and to her surprise, found it to be true. ‘I’m just not afraid to let you see me shake anymore.’

The nerves snagged beneath her skin and Shinobu let Chihaya see the way they threaded through her fingers, making them tremble in the sunlight. Chihaya instantly swooped down to kiss them, like some prince springing free of a fairytale.

Shinobu smiled at her fondly. ‘You still want to have me?’

Chihaya smiled back at her confidently. ‘I would never say no.’

Her hands brushed against the shivering joints, like a magic spell, softly, without any need for speed. Slowly, Shinobu felt them still. It was like releasing a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and she couldn’t help but breathe back tears at the sensation.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

Chihaya looked up at her inquisitively. ‘For what?’

‘For letting me be still.’ She took one last glance at the house behind her, drinking in the darkness that spilled out from within. ‘Nobody else, has ever demanded that much of me.’

And, perhaps, in the end, that was all she had ever needed. She looked down at her hands. They were still now and despite everything, she could no longer feel any trembling beneath. She flexed them. No, nothing.

‘Come on,’ she told Chihaya. ‘You’re going to buy me a Snowmaru ice-cone. And you’re going to act happy about it.’

And, unsurprising enough, Chihaya did.


End file.
